Toxic
by InuShinigami
Summary: Is it intrigue, or is it addiction? Careful where you tread. One false step, and the viper's kiss shall be your last.
1. First Taste

_**Chapter 1: First Taste**_

* * *

As his consciousness drifted somewhere between contented sleep and the waking world, memories of the previous night drifted to the surface of his thoughts. Loki prided himself on his guarded nature. He allowed no one to fully know how he felt in any given occasion, preferring to play his emotions close to his chest and avoid any possible fallout. Walls were built from an early age, and few had scaled them to even get the barest glimpse of what lied on the other side.

But with one voice, his walls came crashing down.

Honey laced words with a breathy tone crept through his mind, the bittersweet melody falling like cool water over him as she sang out. Though she began singing to that small crowd, he later earned the opportunity to experience her siren song in private, a show just for him. Images of long, dark brown hair, dyed so as to blend into a lovely shade of pale green, framing a gorgeous set of wide doe-like eyes. Her eyes, a rich caramel shade that darkened around the edges of her irises. So sweet were her eyes, her voice, her skin…

Though many would not expect it due to his flirtatious nature amongst the women of the court back in Asgard, Loki rarely took lovers. He tended to assess them, searching, trying to weed out those who were seeking favor amid the royals from those who were genuinely intrigued by him. Some lovers he had known and tested for _years_ before bedding.

But in one night, this woman, this _mortal_ , she had him kneeling before her and worshipping her. Yet, unlike previous lovers, she had an air of innocence, of shock and awe over his interest in her. They had spoken to and flirted with each other for hours at the little bar where he had met her. He elicited as many blushes from her as possible, enjoying the darkening shades of her tanned cheeks. And she, in return, captivated him with her wit, her subtle charm…

Flashes came back of what happened after the talking, once she returned with him to his bed in the Avengers' Tower. For hours, he worshipped her and she worshipped him back, teasing him while humming that haunting song. As they lay in the afterglow of their passion, she had captured his lips, humming a few bars as she did.

And he felt utterly intoxicated with her.

Morning light began to creep in through the partially parted drapes of the window, and the waking world began to win over. But, he smirked, thinking of what this day could bring. Rolling over, his arms searched to ensnare her small waist and pull her closer.

But his hands found nothing.

Sitting abruptly upright, his emerald eyes darted around the room, searching for her. Her clothes, her bag, all of it was gone. That's when his eyes fell on a small slip of folded paper on his nightstand. Snatching it up, his eyes roved over the page, hoping for an explanation.

All that was written was the words, "I'm sorry."


	2. No Good

**Chapter 2: No Good.**

* * *

 _Dusk had just begun to fall over the city, dusting the sky in brilliant oranges and reds, blending into the deep purples and blues of night. Hardly a cloud in sight, the whole of New York appeared to glow alight, even along the outskirts in the smaller shops and cafes that lay nestled in the shadows of the taller skyscrapers._

 _She let out a hum of contentment, running a hand loosely through her hair, the wavy tendrils weaving through her slender fingertips, melting from dark brown at the roots to a pale yet alluring shade of green. Though not the usual picture of beauty, the young woman held a natural grace all her own, her seemingly reserved and quiet smile resting on a slightly rounded, heart-shaped face._

 _Wide set eyes, honey gold in color, observed the patrons of the small shop as they drifted towards the far corner. Here, a small stage nestled in this little spot, barely large enough for one person with the two old amps sitting on either side. The center of the stage, however, held only a single barstool situated just behind a mic stand, waiting for their singer._

 _For her._

 _Originally, the owner had installed the small stage in his coffee shop for the occasional open mic night, a way to drum up business. The first night, though, had been unnerving. No one wished to perform. Posters had been hung all around this district of New York, drawing in those wishing for free music, but none who wished to sing themselves. Desperate, he pleaded amongst his staff to go up on stage. Something to keep the customers from leaving disappointed. Then, all attention turned to her, the shy, quiet one who always hummed prettily to herself while working._

 _And soon, she found herself being shoved onto the stage, a mic thrust into her hands, as all eyes fell on the shy, quiet girl. Her boss and coworkers expected her to have an okay voice, hoping that having her break the initial tension of being first on stage would encourage others to follow suit._

 _They never expected her voice._

 _Southern roots shown through, her Louisiana drawl mixed with a sinful tone left the listeners speechless, drinking in her melody as she lost herself to the song. Far too long had it been since she had truly sang, her life giving her no reason to in past few years, but a spark of life rekindled in her core, and her voice fell upon the listeners like a haunting spell, ensnaring them as she rocked back and forth to the tempo of the guitar._

 _And so, she became a centerpiece. Once a week, people from across the city would crowd into the little coffee shop to hear the soulful, heartbreaking voice of this quiet girl. They would flock to hear this little angel sing, to loose herself in a song or two. And she would indulge them, not only because her boss paid her to, but because of that spark, that rekindled flame that would flicker while she sang for them, reminding her of when things were simpler… happier._

 _Tonight was another of those nights. A guitar rendention of a song filled the air, and her eyes closed, drinking in the music as the words flowed out._

 _"Baby, can't you see… I'm calling." Her fingers flexed over the mic, still sheathed within the mic stand. "A guy like you, should wear a warning. You're dangerous… " Eyes shut, honeyed words continued to flow as the song gripped her core._

 _"…I'm falling..."_

* * *

He was brilliant, a genius.

He was handsome and rich.

He was powerful and charming.

He _should_ be able to control his own life.

Yet, here he was, Mr. Genius-Playboy-Philanthropist, trudging his bare feet along the cold tile floor towards the elevator at the end of the hall. No coffee prepared, no time for food, just an 'Avengers Assemble' alert from Captain Spandex about a mandatory meeting.

Followed by JARVIS turning on every light in his room and blasting ACDC when he tried to go back to sleep.

"Stupid, traitorous A.I… It's _my_ Tower," he grumbled, arms crossed tightly over his bare chest. " _My_ money funds the team, yet Grandpa calls the shots." Tonight had been one of the rare nights where Tony had managed to drag his zombified, sleep-deprived body to the comfort of his own room, hoping for a handful of hours sleep. Sadly, he barely garnered two hours before Rodgers called the emergency meeting. In protest, Stark had refused to put on proper clothes, simply heading towards the briefing room in his hot rod red pajama pants.

However, as the elevator doors opened upon his approach, he began to regret the choice.

 _Slightly._

His mind started running a mile a minute, assessing the young woman in front of him, wondering if his security had been breached. Instead of a gun toting assassin, however, he was greeted by crimson enflamed cheeks and shocked-wide doe eyes from within the elevator. The crimson greatly contrasted with the pale green of the ends of her hair, which blended up into a brown color only slightly lighter than his own. No form fitting battle armor, just a tan colored, button-up shirt paired with dark jeans and a wad of jewelry clenched within her hand.

Not traditionally beautiful, she still was not an average woman by far. From her shy tilt of her face to the ground while nervously gripping an over-sized messenger bag to her hunched shoulders as her eyes stole glances at him, he could see that this was just a passive young woman, not a security threat.

Plastering a shit-eating grin on his face, Tony strode into the elevator, gaining back some of the swagger that the early morning and lack of sleep had tried to steal from him. "Hello," he drawled, stretching out the word while carefully watching her.

Warm caramel eyes darted up to meet his, followed by a weak, "Hi."

"Name's Tony Stark," he continued, holding out his hand for her to shake.

"Yeah, I know…" she replied, gaining a bit of confidence in her voice as the blush subsided. Grasping his hand lightly to shake it, she added, "I'm Alice."

He noted as he pressed the panel button for the conference hall floor that she was heading to the ground floor, meaning that she was definitely on her way out rather than heading to see someone. Which meant that she had visited someone staying above him. And the only person living on a floor higher than him was on the top floor, on the only level that could be fully and completely locked down if need be, with not even the elevator capable of entering the level. Here lived the last man Tony expected to bring home a girl.

As the doors closed, Tony threw any normal formalities out the window. "So, do you make it a habit of jumping into bed with Gods of Chaos?"

She squeaked. As in, _literally_ squeaked. Eyes wider than he thought possible, she tightly gripped the strap of her messenger bag, her gaze falling to the ground as the blood rushed back to her cheeks. "No, not normally."

"Not gonna deny it?" he asked with a raised brow.

"I'm not ashamed, so why deny it."

"Interesting." They both still faced the door, only acknowledging each other from the corner of their eyes while speaking. Tony found himself being quite impressed with this 'Alice'. Despite her shy nature, she obviously had a backbone buried underneath, and a small confidence that would probably show itself better in a more comfortable environment. "So, if you aren't ashamed, why are you running?"

Her spine stiffened. "What makes you think I'm running?"

"You're clothes and hair, for one," he replied smoothly. "The wrinkled clothes and messy, wild thing going on with your hair gave away what you two were doing last night—" The blush returned with full force. "—but you'd think you would brush your hair or at least, you know, button your shirt right before leaving. Unless, you know, you're rushing to get out of here."

Her hand darted up to her hair, a few fingers running through the wavy, tangled locks. "And the other reason?..."

"Loki seems like the 'make breakfast the morning after' type. And you are leaving _way_ too early for breakfast."

He expected a laugh, but all she did was get steely faced and swallowed hard, her eyes locking on her hands clasped tightly in front of her. "I'm not good for him." The elevator door dinged, and she responded stiffly, "This is your floor."

Tony watched her for a few moments longer, noting the strangely sad and melancholy look on her face, then he slowly backed off of the elevator. "Nice to meet you, Alice."

With a tight smile that didn't reach her eyes, she replied, "You too, Mr. Stark."

"Call me Tony," he offered, his tone slightly sympathetic. "And feel free to return here anytime. It's the closest you'll find to Wonderland."

As the doors shut, he heard the faint sound of her laughter.


	3. Tony, no

**_Author's Notes:_ I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I was at a convention last weekend and I've had like five tests in the past two weeks. But my schedule is clearing up, and ONWARDS WITH THE STORY.**

* * *

 _Today had been a particularly long day._

 _The sun had just begun to set over the cityscape, lighting up the buildings in a various array of colors. Normally, the man storming along the street paid more attention to these type of details, appreciated the subtle hints of beauty this realm had to offer, but his thoughts wandered elsewhere._

 _As much as he hated to admit, he had begun to grow content living amongst the Avengers. They had been rightfully weary of him at first, but with the truth behind his forced cooperation with Thanos revealed plus Thor's enthusiastic support/begging, they were willing to test how he worked with the team. After the first few months of awkwardness, a rhythm had formed within the group, creating an unspoken set of rules to shape the team's dynamic._

 _Unfortunately, nothing about the members of this team could ever be classified as remotely 'normal, ' and some of the Avengers—a.k.a. Stark— made it his life's goal to drive everyone around him utterly insane. He would throttle the man if he could get away with it. Honestly, Loki sometimes wondered if Stark had a death wish. How Banner could willingly subject himself to Stark's presence so often baffled him._

 _Needing some time to breathe and clear his head before he threw Stark out of a window—again—Loki found himself wandering the darkened streets of New York, his mind drifting as he reached the outer areas of the city. Lights warmly shone through the various shop windows, and the buildings became less and less gargantuan in size._

 _A chilled breeze floated through the air, not bothering him too much due to his Jotun heritage, but what traveled on that breeze caught his attention. A sweet voice, edged in husky, breathy tones, caressed his ears and drew his attention to a small coffee shop on the corner of the street. He could see people crowded inside, all clustered and facing the same corner of the shop. With the voice still drawing him in, he slowly approached, and the words became clearer._

 _"…I'm falling…"_

 _Edging into the shop and around the outskirts of the crowd, his eyes searched out the singer, only to find his gaze locking onto a young woman seated on a small stage. Her hands clasped tightly onto the microphone before her, eyes shut as the melody seemed possess her and her audience._

 _"There's no escape. I can't wait. I need a hit, baby give me it. You're dangerous…" Her eyes slowly opened, somehow locking on his in the middle of the crowd. "I'm loving it..."_

 _A deep blush grew upon her cheeks as she continued to sing, her almost gold colored eyes dropping to her hands which tightly clasped to her mic. His emerald eyes, however, never stopped boring into her. He found himself entranced, his curiosity peaked over this mortal. He could not for the slightest ascertain why she intrigued him, just that she did._

 _"It's getting late, to give you up. I took a sip from my devil's cup." She held no extraordinary marks of beauty. She held herself in almost a timid manner. She was nothing like his past lovers. "Slowly…."_

 _Yet Loki had decided that he wanted her._

 _"…It's taking over me."_

* * *

Today was going to be a long day.

Perhaps this was jumping the gun a bit, but over the years, Hawkeye had learned to trust his gut. And from the moment Cap had called in the Avengers meeting earlier this morning, he knew something was up.

Casually sprawled in his chair, pushed back from the table to lean against the wall behind him with his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes flitted around room, assessing the occupants. As was his normal habit, his position in the room gave him the perfect vantage point, tucking himself in the far corner with entrance near directly in front of him. Most of the team had already trudged in, leaving two members yet to arrive.

Banner sat closest to the entrance, sipping on a steaming cup of tea, slight bags under his eyes. The scientist obviously had not gotten much sleep the night before, if any, and he hunched over his cup with an almost dazed look, his clothes slightly disheveled. The resident God of Thunder, decked in his casual Asgardian garments, sat closer to Hawkeye, somehow managing to look both lively and bored at the same time. Like a puppy that wants to play and is waiting for someone's attention.

The last two of the room's occupants, Nat and Steve, stood over at the front of the table, dressed in their combat gear. Both had given Hawkeye approving nods when he had been the first to enter the room and take his usual seat, Nat throwing in her usual smirk to show that the mission had been a success to some degree. They had been gone for the past week or so, gathering intel on the whereabouts of Loki's scepter, and he could only assume that this meeting was a debrief of some important and urgent information, given the god awful hour of the morning. The sun had just barely begun to peek over the distant skyline.

But as far as team members went, that left only two unaccounted for. One was to be expected. Tony never showed up on time, and given that Barton saw him actually heading to bed late last night, he knew that the billionaire would be protesting coming down in every way possible… And just as the Hawk thought this, in strolled said billionaire, dressed only in a pair of hot rod red pajama pants and a pleased smirk, who promptly plopped himself down in the empty seat beside the still-dazed Banner. The Captain quirked a brow at Tony's entrance, but whether it was over Tony's lack of proper attire or unusually chipper mood for having just woken up, Barton couldn't tell.

"So, Stark," Natasha drawled, face neutral but a questioning brow raised towards the upbeat member of the 'Science Bros,' "What's got you in such a good mood this early in the morning?"

Stark gave her one of his big, shit-eating grins. "I haven't the faintest idea to what you are referring. Oh, and where is Reindeer Games? Cause I need to talk to him and one of you needs to film it."

"Tony, stop poking the God of Chaos," Banner flatly stated while not looking up from his tea.

Steve still looked at Tony as if he were insane. "Do you _want_ to end up being dropped in Times Square in your boxers again?"

"I honestly think he enjoyed that," Nat piped in.

Thor began to straighten in his seat a bit. "Where _is_ my brother?"

And speak of the devil, a slight shimmer of green tinted smoke materialized against the wall to Barton's right. Like Thor, Loki chose to wear his casual Asgardian clothes, the usual shades of black and green that they had come to expect out of the fallen prince. Unlike usual, though, his hair hung slightly askew, not slicked back or tied in a ponytail. While his face remained neutral, his eyes glinted dangerously and his body remained tense as he opted to lean against the wall rather than sit.

Though Loki had only been with them a few months, Hawkeye knew how to read the so-called 'God of Lies' like an open book. A creature of habit, any slight deviation from his usual routine immediately signaled that something was wrong. At every meeting, Loki was normally the first to arrive, always looking crisp and presentable due to his magic aiding with both teleportation to the conference room and throwing up a simple glamor to perfect his appearance. Like clockwork, everyone could count on Loki to be the first to arrive and the most likely to look as if he were about to go to a dinner party with foreign diplomats. Now, here Loki was, last to arrive and tense as all hell.

Yep, today was gonna be a _long_ day.

"Do try to not waste too much of our time, Captain." Snark and barbed wit often seemed to be as necessary to the God of Mischief as breathing, but the tone of his words held more bite today than usual. Mentally, Hawkeye, along with what he was sure included every other occupant in the room, starting repeating the mantra, _Tony, no._

From the manic grin on Stark's face, Hawkeye could practically hear him reply, _Tony, yes!_

"So, Reindeer Games, did you have fun last night?"

Loki's shoulders stiffened—

"Because I was in the elevator just a few minutes ago, and I just met the most interesting girl—"

—his fists clenched tightly—

"—who was coming down the elevator from _your_ room, and I do believe that she had stayed the night—"

"Stark…" Barton began in a warning tone, watching as a greenish tinge of energy swirled along Loki's fists.

"Said her name was Alice, and honestly, she is kind of out of your league- _AHH._ "

This was the point when Stark had flown up into the air, only to land on his back on the center of the conference table with a loud thud and a groan, sprawled out in a spread eagle formation. Every other member of the room jumped into a defensive position, weapons drawn at the seething God with swirling green magic, sans Banner who slowly stood, clutching his tea with both hands, and shuffled out of the room muttering, "It's too early for this crap…"


End file.
